


Force me to you (But don't force me to love you)

by TheEagleGirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Babies, F/M, Politics, Threesome, power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEagleGirl/pseuds/TheEagleGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow, now Jon Targaryen, is the heir to the throne. In order to keep the peace, he must take a bride. Daenerys chooses Arianne for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I could kill him for you," Obara says.

Arianne smiles slightly, "And where, dear cousin, would that leave me? Where would it leave the kingdom?"

"Without an heir. But you'd also be free of this betrothal," Tyene states from across the room. She's facing the window, and her dress billows around her in the cool night draft. It is Winter, but Dorne is not yet cold enough for Arianne to want her windows closed. Tyene has been staring out the window since Arianne shared the news of the raven with them. _At long last_ , Arianne thought, _I am getting married. And I know nothing of this man_.

Myrcella finally speaks up, "I met Prince Jon once, back at Winterfell. He was still Jon Snow then. He seemed quiet. Not unkind, but just...quiet. Lonely. Like he wanted a friend."

Arianne thanks them all, and begs off, saying that she is tired. Really, her mind is awake and thrumming.

 _Jon Snow_ she whispers, and tries to imagine him. She sees Aegon's face, but that's not right. Jon Snow looks northern, he must, elsewise he would have died as a child. So she imagines Aegon's face with darker hair.

It's no use. She can't visualize her betrothed. She has no idea how to seduce a man she knows nothing about. Especially not when she just wants to rest. The war has sapped all of Arianne's strength.

* * *

When Arianne first sees King's Landing against the horizon, she loses hope in her plan. It is snowing lightly, and the ground is already thick with several inches of hard frost. She had been counting on her body, the ability she has to make men look, see everything and nothing all at once, but it is too cold here to wear what she's intended.

For the past few moons, Arianne has grown exhausted when thinking about her betrothal. But now, so close, with all her plans failing her before her eyes, she feels a thrill of something she cannot name. She _wants_ this, she wants to be out of her element, so when she wins Jon Targaryen's heart like all the men before him, she will _feel_ the victory.

Arianne wants so desperately to feel something.

And she does. For the first time in so long, she feels anticipation when she enters the city and sees the royal family. She knows Aegon from his time in Dorne, and Daenerys is the queen, but she looks longer at the man with the dark hair beside them.

 _Jon Snow_ , she thinks. _Jon Targaryen._ Her husband to-be.

He is looking at her with a guarded expression. Arianne smiles at him as she comes down from her carriage. His face doesn't change, but something behind his eyes flickers.

Arianne knows now what she wants. A challenge.

 _My Lady,_ he says, and kisses her hand.

 _My Prince,_ she answers, and curtseys, never taking her eyes off his.

* * *

Arianne works on him every moment she can.

Even when she's not with him, she's thinking of what she can do, what she can say, that will make him see her and smile. So far, nothing has worked. Prince Jon is wary of her, wary of her family, and he acts as though she wants something from him. She does. Arianne doesn't kid herself. One day her child will be king. Jon is her way to that.

Still, Arianne works on him.

Obara scoffs at her attention to detail. "Why even try, Arianne? He will come to your bed anyway, even if he does not want you. You are wasting your time."

Arianne smiles wryly, "What else, my dear Obara, is there to do with my time?"

Obara herself is an admirer of Prince Jon. She'd challenged him in the training yard shortly after their arrival, and Jon had bested her at swords. She'd taught him how to hold a spear soon after. Arianne knew that Jon was a fast learner and didn't talk much. Obara loved that in a man.

Arianne knows how dangerous Obara's growing affection for Prince Jon is. That is why she asks Obara to help her think of new ways to talk to Jon. She needs to remind her cousin that Jon Targaryen is _hers._

In the end, it is Nymeria that comes up with the answer of how to hold his attention.

"He loves his sister. Arya Stark. She holds his favor in court like no one else. People would assume that they are lovers, but they see how she is with the young lord Gendry Baratheon. However, he loves her like a sister. Last night, the Bravvosi banker insulted Arya and Prince Jon was cold to him for the rest of the night. The way to his heart is through his sister."

* * *

Arya Stark is half-wildling. At least, that's what they say in court. But alone with her, Arya looks like a young woman in an uncomfortable situation.

"Jon's my brother," Arya says at last, "I don't care if they say that we're truly cousins. You hurt Jon, and I'll kill you in your sleep."

Arianne laughs, and Arya looks surprised that she hasn't run screaming yet. "My Lady Arya, I do believe I like you."

Arya's face betrays her surprise for a moment, and then it is gone. She quirks an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Arianne twines her arm through Arya's, "Yes. We should be friends, Arya. I hear that you have very similar views to my cousin, Nym. You know, in Dorne, a woman can inherit. Women are given far more. I think it admirable that you..."

Arianne prattles on, and sees Jon out of the corner of her eye, watching.

Arya Stark is not bad company, for a half-wildling girl.

* * *

Three nights before their wedding, Arianne decides to act.

Finding the Prince's suite is not hard. Arianne nearly kills herself on the side of the keep climbing to it, but it's not hard to find.

She awakens Jon with a hand on his mouth and a knife to his throat.

In her three weeks in King's Landing, her chaperoned conversations with Jon, her talks with his aunt and brother, and in getting to know how Arya got her sword, she has realized that Jon Snow values strength and directness, and has no energy left for subtlety. So Arianne has decided to be direct.

He is awake in a moment, and his hips buck up, nearly sending Arianne off balance from the seat she's taken on top of him. Still, she holds on, and whispers "Shhh" in his ear.

Jon stiffens, and she knows that he's realized it's her.

She removes her hand but keeps the knife in place.

"Are you mad?" Are the first words out of his mouth, and Arianne laughs quietly.

"A bit," she admits. "But you obviously had no interest in me, so I've taken an unconventional route."

Jon's eyes seem to glow white in the dark. "By slitting my throat three nights before our wedding? That's hardly unconventional. In fact, I'd wager to say it's been done before."

He's making a joke, Arianne realizes. A nervous joke, but still. It's progress.

She lifts the knife slowly off his throat and onto his chest, the tip just pressing into his black nightshift. It feels rough under her hands.

"Prince Jon," she whispers, letting her voice get low with suggestion. "I would know you."

He shifts underneath her, and she realizes that he is uncomfortable with the insinuation. Good.

"After all, we are to be married. And we've barely spoken." With that, Arianne takes her hand off his chest, fully intending on getting off of him.

What she doesn't expect is the way Jon wrenches the knife from her grip, flips her over and holds it to _her_ neck.

He's breathing slightly as he hovers over her. "You know," he starts conversationally, "this was a stupid risk to take. What if Ghost was in here with me?"

"I'm not afraid of your wolf," Arianne says, and she reaches slowly, to push his hand away. The knife clatters to the floor. "I'm not afraid of anything."

Her hands are on his face, and she kisses him deeply, her mouth full of promises. When he pulls away, he is slow and hesitating. He rolls off of her.

Arianne thinks that he might get out of the bed. Instead he just lays on his back next to her and breathes heavily. "What do you want to know?" he asks finally.

She traces a finger over his collarbone, right where the shift has opened from her pulling at it. "Everything. Anything. I want to know everything about you, my Prince."

She kisses the side of his neck once before she says, "Tell me about your family. Ned Stark, what was he like?"

She knows that she's said the right thing because Jon's smile cuts through the dark.

"He was the best man I've ever known."

* * *

"I'm very fond of my nephew," Daenerys says.

Arianne smiles, and Tyene continues to apply the kohl to her eyes even as Nym pinches Arianne's cheeks to make them flushed.

Queen Daenerys looks at her. "Everyone out. I would speak with my lady Arianne privately."

Obara stiffens from behind the queen and all the attending ladies file out. Arianne looks into the corridor to see that Arya is standing outside in a beautiful gray dress with fur around her neck.

"I gave them choices, you know," the queen says. Arianne looks to Daenerys.

"I asked them who wanted to be king, and who wanted to be the father of the next king. Aegon wanted to be both, but he wanted to rule more. I married him and now he is my king. Jon doesn't want to rule, but his children will. Jon will never take my throne from me. I love him, do you understand?"

Arianne nods.

"He is my favorite person in the world." Daenerys smiles bitterly. "If you hurt him or try to take my throne, Arianne, I will have my dragons burn you. Until that day, though, be good to him. He deserves the world."

Arianne nods again. She has an urge to embrace the queen, so trapped in this war for power even within her own marriage.

Queen Daenerys breaks the silence by ordering the women back inside. "Let us prepare the lady Arianne for her wedding!"

* * *

Jon looks magnificent under the great tree of the Godswood.

He is dressed in black and red, and his hair is filled with snowflakes. The ceremony is short and cold, but when he kisses her, his lips are warm.

So is the cloak he fastens around her shoulders.

Arianne holds the kiss for a moment more than is proper, and looks up at her husband. His grey eyes stare back at her.

There is a heat burning in there as well.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Arianne learn to be married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since many people have been asking to see Jon in Dorne, I've decided to grant that wish!  
> Read and review, please!  
> By the way, Arianne is like twenty four and Jon is twenty. Canonically, he is younger than her.

Arianne puts on a Dornish nightgown, the first garment from Dorne she's worn since coming to King's Landing. Jon is not yet in the bedchamber, and she can hear the women's laughter. She is amost sure that Obara leads them, and thinks that Jon will be truly naked by the time he arrives.

Arianne has carefully planned out the seduction of this night. Only her dress has been removed, and so she touches her hair, the first self conscious move she has made in years. The hair is held up by golden clips, and they are cool to her fingers.

Her face catches in the mirror. She looks stunning, and smiles, just as her dear uncle Oberyn had taught her.

_When you smile, they should think it's just for them._

The laughter grows louder and the door swings open behind Arianne. She doesn't move, waits for him to speak first.

"My lady," he begins, quietly, right behind her. She hasn't heard him move, and her heart is uncomfortably loud in her chest. She pinches herself quickly.

With that, she turns and kisses him. It's a deep, sinful kiss that has both gasping for air by the end of it. But Arianne holds him, right by her face, and whispers, "My name," she traces the scar on his face, "is Arianne, Jon."

He shudders, and Arianne knows that he is rattled. They have kissed, and touched, but all in that night when she'd begun her seduction. Since then, Jon had stayed away. At least, he'd stayed away from her body.

She can feel him against her. He is naked, as she suspected and her face heats with anger at the thought of Obara taking liberties with her husband.

Arianne feels his hands flex on her hips, and she disentangles herself from him.

She walks up to the small table, full on wine bottles and cups, and starts undoing her hair.

Her back is to him, and she can't see his reaction, but she hears his intake of breath as she loosens her hair, and she pulls out each clip slowly. Soon her hair is hanging like a curtain behind her. The blips are stacked, evenly. Bracing her hands on the table, Arianne looks over her shoulder at him, a slight smile on her face. Then, she pulls off her bracelets. Those she drops to the ground. They clang loudly in the silent room.

"Jon?" she asks sweetly. He clears his throat loudly.

"Yes?" he says, and it's the first thing he's said since coming inside.

She brushes her hair to the side, "Can you help me with my necklace?"

He doesn't answer, but Arianne forces herself not to turn. She is rewarded for her patience when she feels his hands, cool and soft, on her neck.

"Leave it on," he whispers, his lips brushing her ear from behind.

Arianne has to bite her lip to stop the sound rising in her throat.

"That," she says, dropping her gown, "Is an excellent idea."

* * *

He is more skilled than she'd thought a former man of the Night's Watch would be. His kisses leave her knees wobbling, and his hands know all the right places to touch. She is ready for more, but he is slow, thoroughly slow and searching, as if this is their one night together and he wishes to remember her body.

When he does finally press himself inside of her, Arianne is so far along in her hazy pleasure that she peaks almost immediately.

When Jon is done, she keeps him there, inside of her, and she waits until she can breathe again.

"How did you learn that north of the wall?" she gasps, her voice high, higher than she wanted it to come out.

Jon is above her, and he whispers along her brow, "I'm not a septon, Arianne."

She smiles lazily from above him, and stretches like a cat. It is an odd sensation, Arianne discovers, to stretch while your husband is still within you. He smiles back and rolls off of her.

Arianne immediately yawns, "So? How did you learn? You were a boy when you went to the wall."

Jon is quiet. She looks up at him, and sees a puzzled look on his face.

"Is this what you want to know on our wedding night?"

Arianne moves so she is laying on his chest. She twirls her fingers around the light dusting of hair Jon has around his navel. It tickles, she knows, but he doesn't laugh. He honestly expects an answer.

"Yes. I know I'm not your first, Jon. But someone was. I don't need to know details. But you obviously know about my previous lovers. Or, were you under the impression that I was a maid?"

Jon, unexpectedly, chuckles. "Not for a moment, my lady-"

" _Arianne,_ " she swiftly corrects.

"-but I don't think I want to know anything about them."

She sucks a kiss on to his chest and feels him relax a tiny bit.

"What was her name?" she asks. Suddenly, she knows why Jon doesn't want to talk about this woman. She's dead.

Jon sighs and says, "Ygritte. She was a wildling. She seduced me when I infiltrated the wildling camp. Wanted to make sure I wasn't still a crow."

Arianne sits up. If Jon finds her body enticing, she cannot say, for he looks at her face. Arianne leans over and tells him, "I'm not one of these courtly ladies, Jon Targaryen. I'm not afraid of you, or my body, or the truth. You've had lovers, as have I, and us together will not change our pasts. If you want to tell me about the women in your life, about anything in your life, you may."

He stares at her and Arianne finds herself uncomfortable with the level of scrutiny in his gaze. She stares him down as well, then leans into him some more. "After all, I will not hide anything from you. You should be prepared to hear all about my previous lovers."

There is an exquisite groan from beneath her. She gets him ready and then mounts him. Some men don't like it when Arianne does this, but Jon seems to have no qualms.

Arianne likes it.

* * *

The next morning, Arianne is woken with Jon's head between her thighs, and she smiles sleepily. It's a good start to a hard journey.

They leave by noon. The Dornish delegation has been on the road not one moon before, and now they return to it. Jon rides alongside Arianne and her cousins for a bit before it gets too cold and the women pile into a carriage. Arianne smiles when she sees Jon pass her and look to be in deep conversation with a knight of his household, Podrick Payne.

Above them, Jon's dragon Rhegal screeches. To Arianne it sounds like laughter.

* * *

Her husband finds Dorne too warm.

It's much warmer than King's Landing, and although Arianne laughs at his confusion as to why Dorne is still warm in winter, she feels a thrill when he starts wearing lighter clothes, with shorter sleeves that pronounce his arm muscles when he trains in the yard. His wolf seems to adapt better, after she trims his coat.

The heat does something to Jon's blood, though. They are open, here. He no longer wants to hide the looks he sends her when she arrives to dinner in a sheer gown.

They nearly give Podrick a heart attack three times when he walks into Jon's solar to find Arianne seated on the desk (where Podrick had his lunch the day before) and Jon at his knees before her.

Arianne has taken over ruling Dorne, with Jon as her consort, and she knows that he loves it this way. Jon hates politics, and he helps her with her ruling, but only if she needs his help.

It makes Arianne understand why Daenerys loves Jon. He will never take Dorne from her. And for that she loves him as well.

* * *

They are laughing and eating strawberries in bed when Arianne runs out of the bed and to the chamber pot.

She heaves up her breakfast and the strawberries, which had been wonderful. Jon is beside her in an instant, holding her hair off her face and soothing her back with his palm. Arianne is crying a little from the pain of the experience, and she gasps for breath while Jon calls for a maid.

"I am fine, Jon," Arianne says.

"The princess is sick," Jon tells Allyia, "Go get Maester Sam."

Allyia runs to do the Prince's bidding.

Arianne tries to get up, but her legs are wobbling. She sits heaviliy on the ground and leans on Jon. He kisses the side of her sweaty brow.

"I'm not sick," she insists. Jon looks at her, and the expression is so skeptical and concerned all at once that Arianne giggles.

"Sam will tell you, Jon. I'm not sick. It's mother's stomach."

Jon doesn't seem to hear her. "Of course you're sick, Arianne. You spend too much time overexerting yourself and taking care of your kingdom that you don't pay attention to your health..."

"Jon-"

"...and I don't want you to be sick, Arianne. You're my wife and I love you..."

"Jon-"

"...but I also fear for your health, so please if you would just listen to me and take your days a little easier...OW! ARIANNE!"

She'd pinched the flesh of his forearm and twisted, hard. "Do you ever listen to what I say, you impulsive man?" she asks.

He looks confused. Then his face clears and lights up.

"You're with child?"

Arianne sees the wonder and hope on his face. "Aye," she says. "A babe."

When Sam and Allyia come in, they have to leave immediately. Not just because Sam feels like his eyes will burn forever for witnessing his Prince and Princess twisted around one another, but also because Arianne throws her heavy gold bracelet at his head and he feels like he will faint from blood loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any ideas for the next chapter, please post them in the comments below.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets jealous, Arianne gets closer to both her husband and the end of her pregnancy, and politics rears its ugly head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this chapter!

Jon's hand tightens on his wine goblet just as he spots Tyene making a beeline to him. The Sand Snakes have made a game out of him. In public, they try to get Jon to lose control, the one thing he has prided himself on always having.

"Hello, Prince Jon," Tyene purrs, and its so intimidating that Jon immediately scans the room for his wife. Gods, she's talking with some man in a purple tunic. _Purple,_ and Jon is disgusted with the man almost immediately. Tyene follows his eyes.

"Ah. Have you met Drey, then?"

Jon shakes his head. "Not yet. Why?"

Tyene smiles at him, and her eyes are dark in the firelight. "I understand why Arianne wouldn't introduce you two. I can hardly blame her, after all." She grabs Jon's cup and takes a long sip of his wine, never taking her eyes off of his. Jon doesn't understand the Sand Snakes. Why expend so much energy on making one man suffer? Arianne was the one who confirmed his suspicions about their little game. She had been fine with it until last week, when Obara had brazenly cupped Jon during a state dinner. Since then, Jon suspected that his wife had had words with her cousins, for they had stopped tormenting him. But here Tyene was, looking like she had a great deal to torture him with.

"And why is that?" Jon sighs, knowing that he is walking into her trap.

Tyene leans forward and ghosts her hand down Jon's arm, just lightly enough that it leaves gooseflesh forming in her wake. "Why, Prince Jon!" she admonishes him, "Drey was Arianne's _first._ "

Tyene watches his expression carefully. Jon doesn't move his face. He doesn't allow it to move.

"All right," Jon says calmly, even though his mind betrays him. _Her first? First what? First at everything?_ "Well, as you said, we can hardly blame Arianne for not introducing me. The man looks to be strangling her in his grip."

Tyene looks over and laughs. Drey is holding Arianne's hands in his, and while they are both smiling, from this angle it looks like he is holding her in place.

"What say you, Prince Jon? Shall _I_ introduce you?"

Jon looks down at Tyene, her smiling eyes, and holds out his elbow for her to take, "If you would be so kind, my Lady."

While they make their way to Arianne, Tyene says, "We almost shared him, you know," and Jon has to fight the desire to stiffen up at what she is suggesting. Gods, when did marriage get so complicated? His father...no, uncle...made it seem so effortless.

When they reach Arianne and Drey, Jon has a careful smile back in place. "Hello, Princess," he says, and Arianne's eyes light on his.

"Drey, have you met my husband? Jon, this is Lord Drey. A childhood friend of mine."

The only reason that Jon's hand tightens is because it spasms. It's happened before. It's nothing. Certainly not because he is jealous.

Tyene shoots him a look that tells him she knows better.

Jon disentangles his arm from Tyene and takes his wife's elbow. "That dress does not suit you, Arianne," he whispers, and watches Drey's eyes try to follow what he is saying. He angles his head so that his lips brush Arianne's ear, "I've been dreaming of ripping it off you all night." The dress, in Jon's eyes, is fine, but he knows it will make Arianne gasp and lean into him.

Let the Sand Snakes have their games. Jon would rather watch his wife be affected by his words.

Immediately, Arianne's arm tightens and a small noise leaves her throat, one that only Jon can hear. He continues whispering, "If you want, I can tear it off now."

His hand has come around her back and fiddles with the straps holding her dress together.

Arianne's eyes shutter closed for a moment, and she says, "You're right, Jon. We forgot it. I'm sorry. Drey, Tyene, we must go upstairs. There is something important I have to attend to."

Drey looks confused, but Tyene's gaze upon Jon and Arianne tells them that she knows exactly what they are attending to.

* * *

"You are a jealous man," Arianne says right after their door is closed. She presses close to Jon, and yelps when he pushes her away.

"Yes, I am," Jon says, and smiles darkly, the way only a man who has been around the Sand Snakes for a long time can. It's the smile he gives Obara during a fight in the yard, the smile he gives Nym when he sees a snake slithering in his chambers, and the smile that he gives Tyene when she pushes too far. It's a smile that promises retribution.

Arianne sees it, and shudders.

Jon doesn't let her touch him. He pulls her arms off his neck and down to her sides. Holding her breath, Arianne acquiesces and leaves them hanging by her sides. Her pupils are blown and she is struggling to breathe normally but she stays still as Jon's hands skim over her face, her neck, her shoulders, and her swelling stomach until he touches her center, lightly, through her dress.

"Well?" Arianne says finally, struggling not to pant and show him how much she is affected. "You said you would rip it off. Go on, then."

Jon shakes his head, and touches her stomach again. She is only four moons into her pregnancy, and her stomach has just started to swell. She's hidden it well by the dress.

Jon walks forward, until Arianne is against the wall, and his arms are on either side of her head, braced against the wall.

"I think I will take my time tonight," he whispers against her throat. Arianne whimpers involuntarily.

"I'm going to kill you, Jon," she threatens, even as his hands gather her gown up to her waist, and he pulls her smallclothes down with his teeth.

He grins up at her from his knees, and just shifts her legs apart.

There is nothing to clutch onto. Arianne usually holds on to the bedsheets when Jon kisses his way down her body, between her thighs, but against the cold wall of their bed chamber, there is nothing to hold on to. She scrapes at the walls and cries out when he spreads her legs even wider, until she is on her toes, but that is not enough. Finally she settles on grabbing his head through her skirts and pulling him closer.

When Jon emerges, he licks his lips and stares up at Arianne, a devilish smile on his face. She slides down the wall to join him on the floor. Her legs can't hold her up any more.

Jon leans close and kisses her. The kiss is biting and hard, but there is a softness to it, a sweetness under the scrapes of his teeth.

She doesn't protest when he lays her against the floor and leaves her there for a moment. Nor does she complain when he returns with a knife and cuts her dress away. In fact, when he does, she moans so loud that the entire keep must have heard it.

"That's not ripping it off," she says breathlessly, "You're cheating. You're cutting it off."

Jon runs the blade down her bodice until it rests against her thigh. He makes a smaller cut, and then sets the knife on the floor. "Does this work?" he asks, and rips it. The sound is deafening. Arianne laughs, or she would if she could breathe.

"Yes," she says. "Yes."

When they are done, Jon kisses her stomach, as if in apology for his roughness, then gathers Arianne, suddenly boneless, and carries her to the bed.

When he lays her down, she whispers against his chest, "Tell me about the wall. I don't want this night to end just yet."

So Jon tells her. Of how he was betrayed. How his men burned the body and nearly died of a collective heart attack when he immerged from the fire as a dragon. How Daenerys had come to the wall to save him, and burned the Others, and how he's been devoted to the Queen ever since.

"Anyone who takes time out of conquering the kingdom to save the realm is truly deserving of my services," he whispered.

Arianne knows the stories. He's told her once before. But now she asks him, "And if the Queen called you to King's Landing? What would you do then?"

It's a possibility, Arianne knows. Daenerys is in love with Jon. She won't be able to stay away from him long.

Jon thinks for a moment. "I don't know. It depend on how badly she needs my help. If the realm is in danger..."

Arianne stops him with a kiss. She doesn't want to hear about the realm right now.

"Never mind, Jon. We shall pass that when it comes to us."

Jon smiles down at her, and it's not the dark smile from before. It's a true, happy one. "I love you," he whispers. There have been only few times he's said this to Arianne. She knows he doesn't do well with emotions. "And I want to stay here, with you in Dorne, no matter how hot it gets in the summer."

She smiles at him as well, and says, "I love you too." _Problem is I'm not the only one._ "And you might reconsider when you feel the true heat of Dorne."

They fall asleep soon after. Jon's heartbeat is solid under her ear.

* * *

Arianne is in her eighth moon of pregnancy when she receives the raven.

She yells for Jon.

He comes as fast as he can. Arianne has been in bed for the past three days, and Maester Sam has posted a guard to make sure she stays. Jon sits by the bed and pants out, "What? Is the babe coming?"

Arianne glares at Sam, who has not come into the room behind Jon, but stands at the doorway. He's been reluctant to come inside ever since she threw that bracelet at his head. "Get in here, Sam, and close the damned door."

When he does, Arianne starts to shake. She holds the missive in her hands, and reads it out loud.

" _To my dear nephew Jon,_

_I hope your wife's pregnancy is progressing well. She, and the heir she carries, are in my prayers daily._

_Unfortunately, matters in Kings Landing have grown to be too much for Aegon and I to control alone. We have the small council to help us, but there is little trust amongst the lords. I would ask, Jon, that you come up here as soon as you can. Aegon and I would name you our hand. Now that you have produced an heir for the Seven Kingdoms, and Arianne cannot have a babe for near another year while she weans the child, we would like to ask you to come to King's Landing and help us rebuild the realm. There are too few people that I can trust._

_Send word quickly,_

_Queen Daenerys, First of her name."_

Arianne's tear stained face looks up from the letter. "She _cannot_ do this, Jon. Tell her! Tell her you won't leave!"

Jon stares down at the letter in Arianne's hand. There is silence in the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, guys! I love reviews. They make my heart smile. :)  
> Any suggestions for the next chapter?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany's POV about falling in love with Jon, Jon's response to Dany's letter, and the people of Dorne get a special visitor.

"Arianne..."

"You can't go, Jon. Your aunt was perfectly fine without your help before. Now she calls you? Now that you are about to give this kingdom an heir? Jon, you can't go!"

Arianne is sobbing on her bed, and Sam tries to console her.

"Princess, Jon has a duty to the realm..."

"That duty ended the moment his men killed him! Jon has a duty to me as well. _I am his and he is mine_. Does that mean nothing to the Queen these days?" Tears run down Arianne's face and Jon can't move. Arianne turns beseechingly to Jon.

"I've not yet had our child yet, Jon. She wishes to call you to court like a man calls his mistress to attend him! I'll not let you do it, Jon. I won't!"

Finally, Jon has something to do. He grabs Arianne and clutches her to him. "I'll tell her no," he says, voice hoarse. "I would do anything for her, but not this. I won't leave, Arianne. Please, my love, please don't cry."

Arianne sobs even more, and Jon sees the disbelieving look Sam shoots him.

"Sam," Jon says, over Arianne's tears. "Go to the rookery and write out a letter to Daenerys. Tell her that I cannot come, because my wife suffers from a difficult pregnancy. Tell her..." he thinks for a moment. "Tell her that right now, my duty is in Dorne, with my wife and my child. That I cannot come. Tell her that she should offer the position of Hand to Tyrion Lannister. I will send a letter to Sansa and tell her to urge him to accept. Write it as I would, and check with me before you send it."

Sam's eyes are still wide with fear and surprise, but he nods, chains clinking, and runs from the room.

Jon turns to Arianne. He's never seen her so unsettled. It must be because of the babe.

"Don't leave," she begs him. "Jon, my love, don't leave. Don't do Daenerys's bidding. She wants you...under her control. She wants you with her. But I _need_ you Jon. I love you. Don't leave."

Jon says nothing. By sending this letter, he will have angered his aunt. He hopes that she will be satisfied with his decision.

* * *

Daenerys crumbles the missive in her hand. Then she smooths it out again. It is not in Jon's hand, but it carries Jon's words. She cannot crush something that Jon has written. Instead, she traces her fingers over his signature.

She should have known. She shouldn't have written to Jon so impulsively.

"Dany," Aegon calls out from the bed, "Go back to sleep. Don't stay pouting all day."

"I don't pout," Daenerys says, and stays by her seat at the window. It's her bedchambers. She will not leave. She will force him out if need be. "I am merely thinking."

Aegon frowns and stands. He dons his robe quickly. "See you in the council room," he says as he leaves.

Daenerys closes her eyes. Tonight, she had pictured Jon again when Aegon came to her. It was a dangerous game of hers. One night she won't be able to keep it a secret any more. But the image is so potent that Dany has to see it again. Jon's face, closed in concentration above her. Jon, moving within her. Jon, kissing his way down her body.

_It's too late for these thoughts. You gave him away. Why on earth did you expect him to come back when you call?  He is to be a father now. He no longer comes and goes at my beck and call._

Really, though. What would Daenerys had done if Jon agreed to come? Bed him? Make him her paramour? If any of what her men in Dorne told her was true, Jon never strayed from Princess Arianne's chambers. Nor she from his. Daenerys had expected no less. Jon was honorable. Jon was good. He would have been good to her. If only she's kept him.

She opens her eyes and goes to the bed where five minutes ago, she'd been with her _husband_. She lays down and thinks of Jon.

When she met him, he was outside. There was snow melting in his hair, and Daenerys had desired him from the start. He was Aegon's opposite. Quiet where Aegon was loud. Smart and calm where Aegon was brash and impulsive.

Her hands travel down her body and she pictures him. Tears trickle down her face as she sees him in her mind's eye. _Our children would be beautiful,_ she thinks. If only she could have children.

He loves Arianne. It was the only thing his letter had said in his own hand.

_I love her, Daenerys. She is my wife, with my child. Please, for the love you bear me, do not ask me to leave her, not so soon. Not while she suffers so._

She holds the letter on her chest as she touches herself. He may not have written all of it, but she knows that they are his words. For the love she bears him, she should leave him be, listen to his wishes. But she knows she cannot. She cannot leave Jon be. Because of the love she bears him.

Daenerys arches off the bed and whispers " _Jon"_ reverently, as though he is really there. She whispers his name like a prayer. In a way, it is. It's her prayer, the only one she ever says at night.

* * *

Arianne's sweat has dried on her face. The room is cool, and silent, save for the babe's cries.

"What is it?" She asks, quietly. If it is a girl, she will rule Dorne. A boy, and it is the next heir for the Seven Kingdoms.

Maester Sam looks up from where he is crouched. He blushes as though he did not realize that he had just been looking at Arianne between her legs. He carries the baby out, and it is a bloody little beastling. But it's her bloody beastling, and Arianne wants to know the child's gender.

"A boy, Princess. Healthy and strong."

Jon is inside immediately, and the nurse lets him come. She'd insisted on leaving him out of the birthing room.

He holds the babe. "Our little Aemon. Aemon, say hello to your mother."

Arianne looks at Jon's face, his awestruck expression. He will be a wonderful father.

"Hello, Aemon," Arianne says. The babe continues to wail.

"He's hungry, Princess." Sam's voice is squeaky with unease. Arianne glares at Sam.

"I know that, Maester. I'm not an idiot." With that, Arianne pulls down her shift and gives the babe her teat.

It was an easy birth, from what her mother has told her of childbirth. Arianne is no longer worries about complications, and is now happy to see Sam's face turn red. He leaves the room, immediately.

Jon chuckles and sits, "You torture him so, Arianne."

She smiles at him. "It's my one vice, Jon. Don't deny me this simple pleasure."

Jon kisses Arianne suddenly, and she giggles. They are so wrapped up in each other and their elation that they don't hear the voice until it is in the doorway.

It is the queen.

The room is so silent for a moment that Arianne can hear the snow falling from outside her window.

"Queen Daenerys," she says, "We didn't know you'd be here."

Daenerys's eyes are locked on Jon. She shakes her head.

"I came to witness the birth of my heir."

There is something in Daenerys's voice that makes a tingle of fear run down Arianne's spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review! I hope you all like this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianne and Jon deal with Daenerys, spend time with Aemon, and make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> I'm glad that I got such a great response for the previous chapter. However, some people were arguing about my characterization of Arianne. Let me just explain myself. Arianne is very attached to Jon. She's never been married before. Yes, she might be ok with having a threesome and experimenting sexually, but Jon is hers. Daenerys wants to TAKE Jon away and make him hers, alone. Arianne knows this and is NOT okay with it. That's why Arianne is so emotional about it. Also, she's been on bed rest and pregnant. My friend was just on bed rest and pregnant and she was extremely emotional due to her hormone levels and state of mind. She's acting a little out of character because, in my experience, women that are confined to their beds and pregnant are more prone to be emotional. This is not every woman, just the women I know who have been in this situation. Now that Arianne has given birth, she will be closer to her awesome, kick ass self in the books.

Aemon is not a fussy baby. At least, he isn't in his first week, and before Arianne's father died he always said that a fussy baby would keep her up at night. But Aemon is not loud. He's woken Arianne a few times a night, but she has not slept well of late. 

The reason for her anxious nights was sitting in the room with her.

The dragon queen looks so put together, so powerful, as she sits with Aemon, and watches him gurgle.  _This woman could never be a mother,_  Arianne thinks bitterly. She and Daenerys had a moment once, at her wedding to Jon, where Arianne thought they understood each other. But this past week has told Arianne that the dragon queen does not wish to keep their understanding. She wants Jon. Badly. She pines so much that Obara and Tyene and Nymeria have noticed. _  
_

"He is a beautiful child, Princess," Daenerys says, and it's true. Aemon's skin is a shade darker than Jon's, showing his Dornish influence, and his hair is Jon's as well, so dark that it glints in firelight. Arianne thinks it will curl when he grows older. His eyes are gray, but the sort that doesn't stay for long. Arianne thinks his eyes will turn violet. 

"Aye," Arianne says, forcing a light tone. Daenerys must not know Arianne thinks of her as a threat. "I did not think I would ever feel the need to sit and stare at someone for so long and wonder if they will disappear. Truth be told, I watched Aemon for near an hour last night, just sleeping. I was afraid he was just a dream. Silly, I know. But I feel that unless I hold onto him, he will slip away. Do you ever feel that, your Grace?"

Daenerys's eyes stray to the window for a moment, where the ringing of steel on steel comes in faintly. _Jon is sparring in that yard_ , Arianne thinks.

"I have. I still do, sometimes."

_With Jon_? Arianne almost asks, but swallows the bitter words. She continues, instead. "I've never thought to have such a desire to go back to the Water Gardens, and watch my son grow up, surrounded by other children and playing in the pools. Family is a blessing, Your Grace."

Daenerys's smile is biting. "Yes. They can be, given the right one."

Arianne cannot hate the dragon queen when they are together. She is bitter, but not hateful. How can she hate a woman who wants so badly what she cannot have? Arianne does not hate the queen for that. She does, however, hate her for trying to take Jon away from her.

_Is it not enough that you wish to take my firstborn from me as well?_

As if she hears her thoughts, Daenerys continues, "And it seems, unfortunately, that Aemon will not be long in the water gardens. As soon as he is old enough to travel safely I want him to come to King's Landing so that I might teach him to be ruler, one day."

Oh. Arianne has known this would be a rule in her marriage to Jon, but she does not expect it to hurt so much.

"Just so, Your Grace. Just so." Is there bitterness in Arianne's voice? No. But she knows her eyes burn into Daenerys, accusing.  _You want my husband. You will not have him. He is mine._ Arianne has no doubt of her ability to keep Jon in Dorne with her, even as Daenerys pleads with him to come North and be her Hand. But when Aemon must go to King's Landing? What will Jon want to do then? It sickens Arianne that she does not know what he would choose.

_I will not step down. I will not give up my son without a fight. You wish to steal him before he is old enough to remember me. That will not stand, Your Grace._

For the first time, Arianne realizes why Daenerys thought, on her wedding day, that Arianne would want the throne for herself. Because she doesn't want to give up her child, or her husband. Because she  _can't_.

* * *

Of late, Daenerys has been quiet around Jon.

She has congratulated him, and spoken to him of the affairs of the kingdom, and Jon cannot see why she would want him as hand. He tells her himself, that Tyrion Lannister would be a far greater hand that he ever could be. For some reason, this frustrates Daenerys. She doesn't speak of Aegon unless asked, and even then, barely. She leaves the room whenever Arianne comes in, boucing Aemon.

Arianne does that just now, and Daenerys excuses herself, leaving to tend to Drogon, she says. Arianne watches Daenerys leave.

"We need her to leave," Arianne says.

"Why? She enjoys playing with Aemon. She has been a little strange of late, I'll agree, but I'm sure it is the pressure to find a new Hand-"

Jon's words are cut off as Arianne kisses him. It is a forceful kiss, and Jon reciprocates. The servants are still in the room, but Jon has gotten over his embarrassment of public affection a long time ago. In Dorne, he has realized, a woman can kiss a servant and barely turn heads.

When Arianne breaks away, she doesn't even turn to the servants when she tells them, "All of you, out."

Jon takes Aemon from her as everyone else files out of the room.

Aemon is a beautiful baby, in Jon's eyes. Arianne has told him, time and time again, how Aemon resembles him. How Aemon looks like a small Stark wrapped in Dornish skin. Jon thinks that Aemon looks like Arya, his little sister, with his big eyes and pointed chin. His face is much too wrinkled to tell who he will really take after, but Jon finds the though comforting. As if Aemon looking like Arya will make Arya reappear, somehow.

"Jon, we need the Queen to leave."

Jon looks up, startled, "Arianne, she has only been here for a week. I can't just kick her out."

Arianne's face is smooth as marble, and doesn't give way to any emotion. If she could, she would seduce him into agreeing with her. However, only a week after the babe's birth, she cannot. Perhaps for another two moons, until the Maester allows. Until then, she must rely on her other talents to sway her husband.

So she settles for the truth. "She would take you from here. From Dorne, and from me. Now she is asking. Long enough time, and she will demand. And who are you to refuse your queen, to whom you are so devoted?"

Jon chuckles, "Soon, Arianne, Dany will realize that I would make a terrible Hand. I've no head for politics."

"She doesn't care. The handship was just a pretense, Jon. A pretense to get you to King's Landing."

Jon raises his eyebrows at Arianne, "And why is that?"

Arianne sits next to him. His solar is quiet this afternoon, no doubt because she's told his servants to get out. They are probably at the door, straining to hear what she says next. So she lowers her voice. "She desires you, Jon. Have you not seen it?"

Jon is so shocked that his arms twitch, and Aemon stirs within them. "No," he says finally, "She does not desire me. She is married to my brother. She chose Aegon."

Arianne shakes her head, "No, Jon," she says forcefully, "she gave you a choice, remember? Be her king, or the father of her heirs. Now, she has an heir. There is no purpose, in her eyes, for you to stay in Dorne. Why else, if she knows that you hate politics, would she ask you to go to King's Landing? Jon, she would have you as a paramour."

"I would _never,"_ Jon hisses, " _ever_ do that to you, Arianne. She must know that."

Arianne cups his face in her hands. "I know. But being away from me, alone in a capital where everyone hates you or wants to be your best friend or wants something from you, Daenerys believes that she has a chance. That you will be lonely enough to take her to your bed."

Jon still stares at her, disbelievingly. "She can't...Arianne, this must be false. She cannot...I would not do that to you, or my  _brother._ Aegon is a good man. He is in love with her."

"And she with you."

Arianne's voice is gentle, as if she knows that he cannot take more of this. She kisses him once more. "Jon," she whispers, "my love. My only love. Do not let her take you. Do not let her be here  or get desperate enough for you. Now she is asking for you. Soon she will demand you. Ask her to leave. If not, I will. But she cannot stay. She wants you so, Jon. She pines after you. She would take you from your family. From your life. Jon, please."

Arianne gets on her knees before Jon. He tugs her up immediately. "Don't," he says, and his voice is hoarse. He cannot look at her, "I will deal with Daenerys."

Arianne notices that he doesn't call her Dany anymore.

* * *

 

That night, at supper, Jon watches his aunt. He sees it now, the looks she sends his way. So he asks her up to his solar for a cup of wine.

"Dany," he begins, and he sees it now, by the gods, the hope in her eyes. The way she leans towards him too much.

"I've decided, once and for all, that I cannot be your hand."

Her eyes grow angry immediately. "Jon, I've been requesting this so far. I  _need you._ You don't understand, Jon."

"I do." His eyes are pleading. "Dany, I do. But I also realize that I have a duty in Dorne. A duty to Dorne, in fact. I've made an heir for Westeros, true. But not one for Dorne. Dorne needs an heir as well."

For the first time, his aunt looks desperate. "I can-Jon, I can set aside your marriage to Arianne. That way she can remarry and Dorne will still have an heir. Please, Jon. I need you with me."

He shakes his head, "I am hers and she is mine. I made that vow on my wedding day. You were there," he is being vicious now, twisting the knife in, but that is the only way. "You know that I cannot break my vows. Arianne and I have promised one another we will be together for as long as we both live. And I love her, Dany. More than I've ever loved anyone." Jon forces a dreamy expression on his face. Daenerys needs to believe him, no matter how painful he makes this for her. "She's given me a son," he says and Daenerys flinches. She can never give anyone a son.

"I love her," he says, quietly. He cannot make his aunt suffer any more than this. "Do not force me to choose, Dany. And please, do not force me. It would break my heart."

Daenerys regains her composure, and smiles sadly at Jon. "Do you really love her?" she asks. 

Jon nods. The pain in Dany's face makes him angry with himself, "Aye. And she loves me as well."

Dany is silent. Jon eases the tension by japing, "I'm terrible at politics, Dany. I was stabbed because I couldn't please my men."

As predicted, Dany laughs. He's not sure why, but this has always made her laugh. "All right. I won't order you to be my hand. Yet," she adds. "I do need you, Jon. There are so few people I trust. When you have your second child, I want you in King's Landing with me."

Jon wants to protest, but she holds up her hand. "Enough, Jon. I am tired tonight. Leave me be. I need rest. I will leave on the morrow."

Somehow, Jon doesn't think that he's gained anything with this conversation. Nothing save a little bit of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! These awesome reviews feel my soul! And the feedback really does help with my writing process.
> 
> Next chapter: my attempt at smut. I know, it's terrible. But I'm trying! Arianne will be done with her after-pregnancy waiting period, and she and Jon take someone visiting Dorne into their bed, as an experiment. Who do you guys think it should be? (btw, a person visiting Dorne, not a dornish person.)
> 
> BTW, I'm thinking of doing a dark!Jon modern AU (multi-chapter fic, of course) where he corrupts Sansa. What do you guys think? Should I do it? If you guys think it would be better with different characters, tell me in the comments.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Dragon Queen leaves, things calm down a bit. Arianne is having fun being a mother. Still, she thinks that her relationship with Jon could be a little spiced up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long amount of writing and rewriting...I have finally finished this chapter!
> 
> The scene (you know what I'm talking about) will happen in the next chapter. I feel like I need to expand and introduce the characters more in this chapter.

"You want what?" Jon asks, and Arianne hides her smile.

"Jon, you know perfectly well what I said," Arianne says, making her voice teasing.

Jon is sitting, holding Aemon, and his face is so flushed that Arianne longs to touch it and see if it feels as hot as it looks. "You want to take someone into your bed," he replies, voice even.

" _Our_ bed, Jon. I want to take someone into our bed."

Jon's face drains immediately, and this time, Arianne cannot stop the giggle that rises in her throat.

"Why?" he finally asks, and then interrupts when she starts to speak. "I'm not comfortable talking about this while Aemon is in the room."

Arianne looks at her son. "He's asleep."

"I know," Jon says tersely. "But I can't-Arianne, let me put him to bed and we will discuss this."

She notices that he hasn't said no yet.

When he comes back, he says, "Arianne, Sam has just said that I can join your bed once more. And now it is not enough? Why do you need to seek your pleasure elsewhere?"

Suddenly, she knows why he looks so upset. "Oh, Jon," she says, and she lays a hand on his arm, "I'm not dissatisfied with _you_. On the contrary, I find that this can be pleasurable for the both of us. My uncle Oberyn swore that it made him a more passionate lover."

Jon makes a choking noise, "I don't even want to think on that, Arianne."

She pulls Jon until he sits next to her on the cushions. "Jon," she croons, and moves so quickly that he doesn't even have time to blink. Within a moment, Arianne's lips are on his and she is straddling him against the pillows on the bench.

When they break apart, Jon is breathing hard, and Arianne can feel his hardness pressed into her.

"Imagine," Arianne says, her breath hot in his ear, "two women, standing over you, touching you, kissing you," and she trails her hand down to undo his tunic. "Fucking you," she whispers, and finally, Jon sags under her.

"All right," he cedes to her, like she knew he would. "But it can't be any of the Sand Snakes."

Arianne laughs, breaking the mood. "To you that would be like taking Sansa to our bed," she says, and Jon emits a strangled laugh.

"The difference is," Jon says, "Sansa would _never._ Tyene just might." He groans as Arianne grinds into him, "Gods, did I just agree to this foolishness?"

"Aye," Arianne says, and finally she undoes the ties of his breeches, "That you did."

* * *

Arianne hates it, but her need to take a lover into their bed stems from something far too insecure for her tastes.

Two moons ago, the dragon queen almost took Jon from her. Arianne doesn't lie to herself. If the realm was in danger, Jon would have gone. He would have left her to save Westeros, like he has so many times before. He would have gone, and Daenerys would have seduced him. Knowing Jon, it would not have worked, and Arianne knows that Daenerys is too needy for a long planned out seduction, but if he was drunk enough...

She does not want to think about that.

"Why did you not just take the Dragon Queen into your bed?" Tyene asks, when Arianne tells her of her conversation with Jon. "Fuck her once, let her return home, and we are all happier for it."

Arianne raises her eyebrows, "Daenerys is a greedy woman, Tyene. She had the Free Cities under her thumb, and still sought to conquer Westeros. She would not have been satisfied with one night with Jon. She means to take him from me. I cannot allow her even a taste of what she wants, else she will steal it all from under me."

She is feeding Aemon, and the child latches onto her breast with a vengeance. Only two moons old, and Aemon has grown. Arianne knows her milk will not last long. Her mother's never did. It will dry up soon. Perhaps another moon, perhaps two. She will have to find a wet nurse quickly.

"Then why take anyone to bed at all?" Tyene asks. She grins, "Perhaps Jon is not a good enough lover for you."

Arianne laughs, and Aemon gurgles against the vibration it makes in her chest. "No, Jon is a wonderful lover," she winks at Tyene, and adds: "With a _very_ skilled tongue. I- I just feel like we should."

The truth is, Arianne doesn't know if she really should. The thought of someone in her bed does excite her, but she knows her reasons. She wants to present another beautiful woman before Jon and say, _See? You've shared yourself with another woman, and you are still in love with your wife._

She wants to know if he can be with her, and with someone else, yet stay devoted. Stay true to Arianne, not Daenerys. It is a test, and Arianne does hate testing her husband without his knowledge. But she needs to know if he loves her truly, or if his love is a product of their physicality, their intimacy in and out of the bedchambers.

* * *

"Lady Margaery," Arianne states finally. Jon looks up from his ledgers.

"What?" he asks, and his hair falls into his eyes. Arianne pushes it out and kisses his forehead.

"I have extended an invitation to Lady Margaery or Highgarden. She will be arriving any time this week."

Jon still looks confused, until his face clears, " _Margaery?_ She tried to seduce me in King's Landing. Fancied herself a queen. Arianne, you can't be thinking-"

Aside from the strange jealousy that surges after Jon's confession, Arianne just smiles. "I can," she says. "You said I could choose," she reminds him.

Jon's face goes slack and for a moment, and he has no words, "Arianne! She's a proper lady! She won't!"

Arianne raises her eyebrows, "And then what am I?" Jon tries to interrupt, but she silences him with her hand. "Margaery is a good friend of mine, despite our family rivalry. She can be discreet, and I know that she has been with women before."

Jon is so quiet that Arianne is about to speak when he says, "And does she know?" he asks gruffly. "Does she know this is why you have called her down?"

"No," Arianne says, "But I wager she'll soon find out."

She decides that his reluctance to take a lover is a good sign.

* * *

Margaery Tyrell is lovely.

Arianne has not seen her friend in so long that she hugs her immediately, and can feel how slim she's become, how her hard years in King's Landing have stripped her of her baby fat and left a tall, willowy woman. Margaery is not _beautiful_ in the sense that Daenerys is, but she has a personality that draws men in.

"So," Margaery says as they part, "It seems you have missed me, Arianne." Her voice is full of mirth.

"Yes," Arianne says, "I have." She steps back, "I believe you've met my husband, Prince Jon Targaryen, first of his name?"

Margaery smiles at Jon, and Arianne is happy to see that he is not blushing or twitching under her gaze. He holds Margaery's eyes and bows over her hand.

"Lady Margaery," Jon says, and kisses her hand. Like Arianne's instructed him, his eyes remain on Margaery's. "Welcome to Dorne."

Margaery smiles her wicked smile, "Thank you, Prince Jon. It is so lovely to be here."

Arianne thinks that somehow Margaery has figured out their game, has seen why she was invited. It is no matter. Knowing Margaery, it will be more enjoyable for it.

Arianne loops her arm with Margaery's and pulls her to the entrance of the Water Gardens, where she and Jon have just arrived. Aemon is in his nurse's arms, and Arianne sees him as she turns.

He looks like Jon. Arianne forces herself to not let her goal out of sight. She might enjoy this seduction, but this is for Jon, for Aemon. She needs to be able to know she is secure in her marriage.

"Come, my lady," Arianne says, and throws a look at Jon that would make most men melt in a moment, "My husband and I will show you around the Gardens. It's been too long since you last visited."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are love ;)
> 
> BTW Margaery's character is based on Natalie Dormer's version. She seems so much more experienced (and willing to do what's coming next) than Margaery in the books.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon, Arianne and Margaery spend some time together. Still, there is no rest from politics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm updating now. I've been really sick and kind of in and out of the doctor's office for months, but I'm allegedly better now and have time to continue writing! YAY
> 
> Also, so you guys don't get too mad, I PRESENT YOU WITH SMUT.
> 
> (I'm always nervous when I write sex scenes. This one was particularly hard to write, since I wanted to get the mood right. Please tell me what you think)

"You think she knows?" Jon asks, and his voice is still unsure. The banquet is over, and Margaery will join them in a few moments in Arianne's solar, for wine and lemon cakes.

Arianne looks at him through the mirror, and drags her brush slowly through her hair. "Yes," she admits, "Margaery is a clever girl. And I think she herself planned this on her way over, perhaps even before she knew my plan."

Jon looks quite lost. This is the first time in their marriage that Jon looks like he does not know what to do. "How," he starts, and clears his throat, "How does this work? Do I give my attention to you or her? And, how do we prevent a babe?"

Arianne laughs, a deep sound from the back of her throat. "There are ways to prevent a babe, My Prince. And you've always been...attentive, Jon. You just have to spread your love." Arianne turns away from the mirror and smiles at her husband. "I love it when you look so nervous. Like a green boy."

Jon raises his eyebrows at her, "Never, at any point in our life together, have I been a green boy, Arianne."

"True," she concedes. Arianne rises and kisses her husband. "Then you shall be perfect," she whispers against his lips.

_And so is my plan._

There is a knock from Arianne's solar, where the door is closed. A servant sticks their head through, "Princess, the table is set, and Lady Margaery is on her way."

"Thank you," Arianne replies smoothly, "Prince Jon and I will be out in a moment."

Jon sighs deeply, and smooths out his face. He looks colder, less interested, _princely,_ even. Arianne knows that seeing him fall apart tonight will be even more satisfying.

* * *

Margaery has dressed in a autumn dress from Highgarden. In Dorne, it is still not cold enough to warrant winter clothes, but Arianne looks appreciatively over Margaery's choice. It's a golden brown that sparkles in the candlelight and hugs her frame tightly, and Margaery's hair is undone over her dress, nearly the same color. Arianne told Jon, the ever honorable fool, to look at Margaery's body tonight, not just her face.

" _We will never accomplish a seduction when you stare so determinedly at her face. Look around, Jon. Appreciate the sights_."

"Princess Arianne," Margaery says, daintily sipping her wine, "I've just seen your son, on my way over. He was with his nurse. He looks like an angel, my dear, and the perfect combination between the two of you."

"Thank you, my lady," Arianne smiles slightly at her. "Jon and I are very fond of our Aemon."

Margaery nods, "And such a beautiful Targaryen name! However did you choose?"

Arianne looks to Jon, "Jon chose the name."

He looks up and says gruffly, "Aemon will be king one day. It's important for him to have a strong Targaryen name. And I knew Aemon Targaryen, when I was on the Wall."

"Oh yes, I heard he was on the Wall, but he passed a few years ago, did he not?"

Jon nods once and clears his throat, "He was a good man, as I hope my son Aemon will be."

Margaery raises her cup and toasts, "To Aemon Targaryen, the next King of Westeros."

Arianne and Jon echo, "To Aemon," and Arianne feels like it's the first honest moment in this whole affair. Jon must as well, and she sees his shoulders release some of the tension.

"Lady Margaery," Arianne decides to speak up, to be forthright, not do this dance of seduction tonight. "We have decided to invite you into our bed, if you would join us."

Margaery, if surprised by Arianne's sudden outburst, does not show it. "I would be very happy to," she says simply. Arianne can't help but think that it might be a relief to her as well, dropping formalities and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Arianne can see, now, why Jon takes such comfort in honesty.

Jon had choked when Arianne had spoken, but was silent now as Margaery stands and offers her hand to him, "My Prince," she says boldly, "may I have the pleasure of escorting you and your wife to the chambers?"

Jon's voice is low when he answers, "You may," and places his hand in hers. Arianne holds Margaery's other hand, and they slowly make their way into her room.

* * *

Arianne's idea of a seduction was a long, teasing affair. She likes to think that she would have been wonderful at it. But there is something clear about the way this has progressed. There are no illusions of romance. It seems to just be three people holding on to one another, three people of a generation that has seen so much war, so much anguish, a generation that will never recover.

* * *

 

Their first time with Margaery is nearly silent. They barely speak, and the intensity of it all threatens to overwhelm Arianne. Jon is perfect, just as she predicted.

Arianne tries to undress Margaery slowly, and it's difficult to pull apart all the laces and hooks keeping the dress in place, but she swats away Margaery's hands when they try to help. Jon comes up behind Arianne and assists her instead, and Arianne is left staring into Margaery's face while her husband's nimble fingers take her friend's dress apart. 

Slowly, Arianne reaches forward with her hand, cups Margaery's jaw, and kisses her.

It's a nice kiss, but strange, since Arianne's so used to the scratch of Jon's stubble and his soft lips. Margaery's lips are not as full, and she uses more tongue than Jon. It is not a sensation Arianne dislikes, simply one she isn't used to.

Margaery clutches at Arianne's shoulders and brings her closer, so they are flush against one another, and the kiss turns greedy and hard. Jon tugs at Margaery's dress until she is left only in her corset and smallclothes, and Arianne can reach for more, can feel Margaery's smooth skin, cup Margaery's bottom through a thin layer of fabric. Jon is behind Margaery now, unlacing her corset, and when Arianne looks up at him while Margaery nips at her throat, his eyes are darkened on her, his jaw clenched and his hands shake slightly as he leans forward to kiss her.

Margaery moans, caught between them, and suddenly, her corset falls to the floor. She sucks at Ariannes throat a little harder, and reaches her hands behind her to pull Jon's hips flush against hers. Arianne knows that Jon is already hard, and hopes Margaery can feel him, all of him.

Margaery grabs one of Arianne's hands, and places it on her breast, and puts Jon's on the other.

They stand like that for a moment, Jon and Arianne fully dressed, Margaery nearly naked between them, her lips on Arianne's neck. It's only when Arianne grinds against Margaery that she moans.

"On the bed," Arianne orders Margaery breathlessly. Margaery makes a noise of protest, almost, when Arianne releases her breast and steps away, but obeys, stepping out of the dress puddled around her feet, and making her way to the bed. She lays back against the furs, chest heaving and out of breath.

Arianne turns her attention to Jon, and starts to untie his tunic. She kisses him gently, nipping at his lips, capturing his tongue, and finally his tunic is off. Making a show of it, Arianne rubs her hands on his chest, and kisses her way down until her mouth hovers over the front of his breeches. She can hear Jon's breathing quicken, and over that, she hears Margaery's soft intake of breath.

Arianne cups him through the fabric and feels his hardness. She squeezes gently. "I love you," she whispers to him, so only he can hear. Slowly, keeping her eyes on him, she unlaces his boots and breeches, steps out of her gown easily, and makes her way to the bed.

Margaery is waiting there, her chest still heaving as she watches Arianne move closer and closer. She is in the center of the bed, and her eyes darken when she realizes that Arianne has not been wearing smallclothes or even a shift underneath her dress. Instead of coming to a stop besides her, Arianne settles on top of Margaery's legs and pulls at the smallclothes, until Margaery finally lifts her back off the bed and they are off.

She can hear the rustle of Jon taking off his boots and breeches behind her, but Arianne keeps her eyes on Margaery and sets her knees on either side of Margaery's hips, straddling her. She dips down and captures her lips in a crushing kiss, and for a full minute, neither of the women can really breathe, but continue to kiss until their heads swim. Arianne can feel Margaery's breasts on hers, can feel Margaery's cunt burning underneath her thigh and Margaery's hands gripping at her hips.

It's almost too much, until she feels Jon settling down beside them, and the heat within her cools a bit, softly, like water to a blazing flame.

Arianne lifts herself off of Margaery, and motions to Jon. Breaking the silence, she whispers, almost girlishly, to Margaery that Jon has a gift with his tongue. She doesn't really get to finish her sentence when Margaery cries out, sounding pained, and Arianne can see Jon's curls from between the other woman's thighs. 

Arianne almost kisses Margaery to stifle the noises, but instead rocks back on her knees, out of arm's reach, to watch her husband eat Margaery's cunt. Margaery is gasping, mewling like a cat, bucking up, squeezing her thighs around Jon's head. It's clear that she's never had this done to her, not like this, with a Prince between her thighs, being watched by another. Arianne is almost amused when she sees that Margaery has no idea what to do with her hands, can't find a place to put them, in her hair, in Jon's or on the bedspread. Finally, she settles for clutching at her own breasts, and Arianne just watches, and feels herself grow hotter and wetter. Is this what she looks like? Arianne wonders. It's a beautiful sight to see, and she cups her own mound, to lessen the throbbing.

Margaery comes with a gasp, and her face is flushed and red as a beet. She looks like she can't breathe properly, and Arianne covers her mouth with her own, feels Margaery's struggle for air as well as her struggle for control over the situation. She puts a finger inside of Margaery, but Margaery is too tender to appreciate it at the moment, so Arianne licks her finger and turns to her husband.

Arianne kisses Jon next, tastes Margaery all over his lips, and moans. 

Arianne slowly crawls on top of Jon and lowers herself onto him. She can feel Margaery's hands on her back, and Jon's are on her hips, his eyes on hers. Arianne rides him slowly, and the intensity of the moment has her scratching his shoulders, and arching her back when she comes with him. Gasping, she collapses on Jon's chest.

The only sound in the chamber is their breathing. Finally, Arianne rolls off of Jon, and curls into his side. Margaery takes her cue, and tucks herself on his other side, fingers splayed over his chest. Arianne reaches for Margaery's hand and that is how they fall asleep, the three of them holding on to one another.

Arianne had wanted it to last longer, but she knows that they'll have time tomorrow, and every day of Margaery's visit. But this feels right, stopping here. Tomorrow, they can restart their game of cat and mouse, of courtesies and teases. But today, Arianne feels like the honest moments were worth so much more.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review! I love reviews! More smut in the next chapter.  
> follow me on tumblr! I'm the-eagle-girl


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianne and Margaery bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the promised smut is here.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Arianne wakes up to the sound of a kiss.

It's not a bad way to wake, she muses, as she opens her eyes to see Margaery and Jon in a tangle. Jon has always woken up before her, and it seems that Margaery does as well. Arianne watches them for a moment, the way Margaery sits on Jon's lap, bites on his lip until his breath leaves him. The way Jon rolls up to meet her halfway. Arianne has the feeling she's watching a battle, but one where both can win.

Jon sees her watching from the corner of his eye, and breaks the kiss. Margaery tries to follow, almost unconsciously. Arianne can relate. Jon has a way with his mouth that sometimes makes her forget her dignity as well.

"Feeling left out?" Jon asks, his eyes bright.

"If I was feeling left out, my love, you'd know," Arianne says, her voice low. "Go on, Jon. I'd like to watch, for now."

Strangely, it's Margaery that shivers. Jon just watches Arianne, his eyes dark. Then he turns to Margaery and resumes the kiss. This time, instead of heated and passionate, the kiss is slow, exploratory. In the light of the dawn, Arianne watches as Jon turns Margaery into the bed, presses her down and kisses her until she's mewling like a cat. Then, he kisses his way down her naked body until he reaches between her legs. Margaery's eyes are closed tightly, but Jon waits until she's opened them.

"Watch," Arianne says. "We want you to watch."

There's a grin on Jon's face as he descends.

Arianne can see the moment Margaery breaks. She's kept quiet until now, her moans soft and pretty. But now she can see a scream building. Arianne reaches over, takes a fistful of Jon's hair, urges him on faster, deeper. Margaery's eyes are open, rolling upwards as her back arches.

"I need--" she gasps. Arianne comes closer to listen.

"Yes, sweetling? Tell me what you need."

For a moment, Margaery just writhes on the bed, clutching at the pillows. Her hand Joins Arianne's in Jon's hair. She pulls until Jon lifts his head.

"I need you inside me," she moans. "Please."

That's all the urging Jon needs. Arianne watches as he sits back on his knees takes Margaery by the waist and lines himself up. Arianne comes to kneel behind him, her breasts flat against his back, grabbing at his hands over Margaery's waist.

"Only when I say, love," she whispers, and bites Jon's ear playfully. "I don't think Lady Margaery is ready yet."

Margaery moans again, sounding pained, trying to move up and _take_ Jon into her. Arianne holds her hips down, rubbing against Jon's back. His muscles are chorded, straining, but he'll listen to Arianne's command. She's always marveled at his self-control.

"Please--" Margaery begs, and it's a sweet sound. Arianne remembers the night before, intense and pleasurable, yes, but too quiet. She's taught Jon how to make noise in bed, and if need be, she'll teach Margaery as well.

"What, sweetling?" This time it's Jon who speaks, to Arianne's delight. "Tell us what you want. With big words, if you would."

Arianne smirks against Jon's shoulder and squeezes his ass. He nearly jerks forward, but stills.

"I need you to..." Margaery pulls herself together, props herself on her elbows and makes a coy expression. Arianne has no idea how she can maintain her sense of mind. It only makes her resolve to drive Margaery into wordlessness again. "I need you to fuck me, my Prince. If you would."

She can hear Jon laugh. "Since you ask so nicely," he chuckles. Margaery has a moment to look smug before Jon pushes into her. And, Arianne can see, she doesn't have any words left.

* * *

Margaery is smarter than most women that Arianne knows. So it's no surprise that she corners her in the gardens after Arianne has finished looking over the storerooms. Winter has come, and although snow in Dorne has been rare so far, Arianne must stay on top of the food storage. Even now in the gardens, Arianne's clothes are of wool, not lace and silk.

"So," Margaery begins, and loops her arm through Arianne's. "Why is it you've really invited me, old friend? Can it just be for my lovely company in bed or is it also for my advise? Something troubles you, and I can see it."

Arianne doesn't answer, but Margaery continues on. "The queen?"

"She is in love with Jon," Arianne says. "She wants him. She will take him, if she can. And my son."

Margaery looks at Arianne sadly. "Arianne, that was a part of the deal. Aemon must be king."

Arianne looks at Margaery with steel in her eyes. "And what deal did I sign that says he must be sent from me the moment he can walk? What deal did I sign that says I must be separated from my son? Because even if I wanted to go to court with him, she will not have me there. Aye, she'll be discreet about it. Perhaps she'll send someone to start a revolt in Dorne so that I must come home to deal with it. And then that Dragon Queen will sink her claws into Aemon and she'll sink her claws into my husband. I won't have it."

"So war, then?" Margaery muses. "There's been much fighting these past years, Arianne. I don't think the realm can handle more war."

"Not that sort, no."

"Then what?"

Arianne is quiet for a while. Then she says, "I've sent for Arya Stark. She's disappeared from court many times, and she's done so again. The dragon queen keeps her as hostage, but she's fond of Arya and overlooks her trips away from King's Landing. But I've found her, and she comes to Dorne."

"Arya Stark? The one who was almost a Faceless Man?" Margaery's face grows thoughtful.

"A last resort. But one I need. I love my husband too much to allow him back there. Daenerys would take him as a lover, but Aegon would kill him if he knew how she loved him." Arianne studies Margaery's face. "I would like you by my side in this."

"You want to tie your husband to Dorne more so than he is already. And you think a mistress would help in this?" Margaery laughs. "Arianne, we've had fun these few days, but I don't think Jon harbors feelings for me that will tie him to me."

"Not yet, no." Arianne stops, and kisses Margaery lightly. "But he loves his duty and his honor, which will bind him to Daenerys. I need to show him that there is nothing for him in King's Landing. That he is full of love and life right here, in Dorne. That's part of why I've invited Lady Arya here. And Lady Sansa, if she'll come. I sent a raven yesterday to Casterly Rock, inviting her to winter here, where it's warmer and the sun still shines."

She makes way to leave the garden, then stops. "I've a plan, my lady. The question is, will you help me in it?"

Margaery sits on a bench, face pinched in thought. "I will," she declares. "It is a dangerous foe you've chosen, but I will help you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya find their way to Dorne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are actually worse than they seemed in the last chapters, and a civil war is in the making.
> 
> Sansa and Arya are two of my absolute favorite characters, so I'm really happy I get to write them again! And, with Sansa's arrival comes another kick ass woman who knows her politics.

Arya and Sansa Stark make it to Sunspear together.

They’d traveled separately, no doubt. Arya and her companion were dirty and travel-hardened. Arianne, when she peers underneath the tangle that is Arya’s hair, sees that she looks thinner, like she’s been on the road for a while. Besides her companion, a big Baratheon bastard that Arianne had glimpsed briefly during her own wedding, it seems Arya has been traveling with no one else.

Sansa, however, brings a retinue, as befits the Lady of the Rock. She wears a riding gown, looks well-groomed and clean, for a woman who’s been traveling for more than a month. When Arianne meets them at the gates of the city, Sansa steps down and curtseys prettily, while it is Arya that looks around suspiciously.

“Princess,” Sansa begins, her voice musical. “Thank you for inviting us to winter in Dorne. You have a most striking country.” She smiles warmly, “And your sun still shines, although the winds are ferocious at night.”

Arianne smiles back, “They are. However, the desert has always been temperamental. Hot and unbearable in the day, cold and windy in the night. I hope you enjoy your stay in Sunspear, however. The shadow city is something of beauty, and while Autumn has come, we have some warmth left. More than enough to share.”

By this time, Arya has marched over with her horse. “Where’s my nephew?” she demands, as if she is still Jon’s sister and not his cousin. “Aemon. I want to see him. And Jon. Why hasn’t Jon come to greet us as well?”

They’re so different. Seeing them together, Arianne is reminded of the Sand Snakes. On the surface, they look and act differently, but underneath, they are the same. Arianne can see the steel in Sansa’s eyes, even if no one else can, and she can see how the sisters love each other.

“Prince Jon is with Aemon, actually. Our son has a teething fever, and is quite inconsolable. He’s crying from the pain, you see. He only quiets when he is in my arms, or Jon’s.” _Or_ _Margaery’s_ , Arianne thinks, but does not say. If Sansa is as observant as Arianne hears she is, she will tell the moment they are all together. And if Arya did truly study with the Faceless Men…she probably already knows.

“Did you meet on the road?” Arianne asks, as they make their way into the city, their guards rearranging themselves around them. Arya’s companion walks behind. “You don’t look to have traveled together.”

“We did not,” Sansa confirms. “I have come from Casterly Rock. Arya was traveling. We met up a day out from Sunspear.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of your travels, my Lady. I confess, I did not think Queen Daenerys would be comfortable allowing you to leave King’s Landing.”

Arya laughs. “Why? Because I am her hostage? Daenerys knows she cannot keep me in King’s Landing.”

_She can, actually._ Arianne’s eyes slide, unbidden, to Gendry Baratheon, walking behind them. _She could keep your lover hostage as well, and ensure your loyalty. I’m sure that is why the two of you leave so much._

“Lady Sansa,” Arianne says, as they reach the gates of the castle. “I believe you and my cousin Tyene would get along well. And I know Obara is looking forward to having Arya back in the practice field.”

Arya’s mouth twitches upwards. Then, she strides into the castle as if she knows where she is going.

She probably does. She probably came here before Arianne even married Jon, to spy. Arianne quashes her amusement, and follows as Arya makes her way to Jon’s rooms.

“Jon Snow!” she bellows. “I’ve come to see my nephew!”

Sansa stops Arianne with a hand on her arm. “Leave them to get reacquainted,” she suggests. “I believe we need to talk.”

Arianne’s smile drops from her face. “Aye,” she says gravely, “that we do.”

* * *

 

On one of the terraces, Sansa’s hair blows in the wind, and the red strands float about her face. For a moment, with her eyes closed, the Lady of Casterly rock looks unafraid and serene. But her eyes do open, and she sees the fear.

“Tyrion has written me, from King’s Landing. Just before I left.”

Arianne slides into a chair, and plucks a grape from the table. “What did he say?” she asks wearily.

Sansa sits down as well, primly, and takes a lemoncake. “That Queen Daenerys is angering her King. Aegon wants more power, you see. And she keeps it from him.” Sansa bites into the cake carefully, not spilling a crumb. “He is not the king of her choice.”

What a dangerous thing to say, Arianne muses. She swallows the grape. “He is not.”

“But Aegon is friendly, and charming. He has made many friends within court, while the queen has kept to her foreigners,” Sansa explains, her voice mild.

“Will it come to war?” Arianne asks.

“Perhaps,” Sansa says. She hesitates, and takes another bite. “Most likely,” she adds, quietly.

“And if it does come to war,” Arianne says, “they will both come to Jon for aid.”

“They will. He will have to choose.”

Arianne sags into the cushions. “And if he does not?”

Sansa looks out over the terrace. Her eyes are sad. They are always sad. “Then it will be the dance of dragons once more. Jon against Daenerys against Aegon. Rhaegal against Drogon against Viserion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Comments are what make me update!

**Author's Note:**

> Please review! Should I continue this?  
> Also, if anyone has prompts, add them in the comments section


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